Hillsborough happened before I was even born but, being a red, I have been well-educated in the details of the day and the subsequent fight for justice. I was so touched that I wrote a poem (below) a few years ago but was too shy to publish it. If you could read it and provide any feedback, that would be great. Thanks. RIP96

The Crush and the Hush
Dad’s behind the wheel driving down the motorway,
The sun shines through the window, a crisp spring day,
Horns sound and scarves wave, as hundreds of Reds drive past,
Dad sticks to the limit –“Son, never go fast.

”There is a buzz at the ground, a sense of anticipation,
We’re going to see our home team, KINGS of the nation,
Another trip to Wembley with Dad on Cup Final day,
Only Nottingham Forest standing in our way.

The crowds swell as we head for the pens,
Police watch from on high, like hawks in their dens
“Open the gate” the chief calls out
And we all flood in, even the tout!

Dad looks worried, there’s only one place to go
Already full – how were we to know?
I lose Dad in the rush to the tunnel,
The police had created a deadly funnel.

A shove. A push. I struggle to see,
Cries. Shouts. A gash on my knee,
And then I fall straight to the floor,
My body, my legs, I can’t take any more.

My fellow fans help me to my feet,
I feel unwell, as white as a sheet,
The fans try their best to stop my pain,
But there’s too many let in, their help is in vain.

And now I watch from a position above,
My father; his only son – all of that love.
He stretches my body on an advertising board,
The pitch heroically turned into a casualty ward.

There’s bedlam! A truly horrendous sight,
The fans are the heroes, the one shining light,
Yet so wrongly blamed by the police,
For after the crush comes the hush.

So through the trials and taunts, I’ve watched from a high,
A Mersey of tears the city did cry,
For the 96 who didn’t return,
Yet it took 23 years for the world to learn...